Forever Playing With the Dark
by iaminlovewithcoffee
Summary: Bella was 11 when she was put in an asylum for schizophrenia. Then the Masens show up 7 years later and everything changes. Unable to tell who wants to save her and who wants her dead, the only way to stay alive is to escape. Full summary inside. Revised.
1. Summary and Prologue

Forever Playing With the Dark

Summary: Eighteen year old Isabella, or Bella as she prefers, has been held in an asylum for the last eleven years against her will. Being stuck in Wonderland Ward 6 is driving her more insane than when she first came here, but just as she accepts living there forever something changes. All of the sudden, Bella is questioning everything she once knew—are the trusted staff members actually looking out for her? Do the doctors really want her better? Did the parents she had loved so much really abandon her? Are her two best friends even _real?_ Faced with too many questions and no answers, Bella knows the only way to survive is to find them before it's too late. Find those answers and escape, or forever be in the dark.

Prologue:

"No!" I screamed, "No, no, no, _no_! Stop it! Please, please, _stop_!" I let out a sob and shoved all the nurses away from me.

"Isabella!" Nurse Coline gasped as I shoved her away as well. I started sprinting down the white hallway, chasing, begging, crying.

"Come _back_! Edward! Alice! I'm sorry! Stop!" Nurse Coline grabbed me and started yelling at the nurses to get an anesthetic.

_No. Not again._

"Shh, shh, darling. Isabella. It'll be alright," Nurse Coline whispered soothingly in my ear. In response I kicked and screamed louder and harder than ever.

"What do you think you are doing! Nurse Coline! Got get them! Go _get_ them!" I let out a heart-breaking cry as Nurse Folie took hold of my legs and Nurse Garner injected the IM Ativan into me. The world went quiet. With blurry eyes, I turned my head to the space where Edward and Alice were last seen. I gazed at the spot for as long as my eyes would stay open. I felt myself being lifted.

"You know you can't leave, Isabella. I'm sorry, so sorry. You can't be with them." Colors and sounds were swirling together, all mixing into one, jumbling up. I had no idea who was talking to me, or if anybody was even talking to me at all.

Still staring at that spot, I couldn't help but ask the people who were now long gone, "Why?" Blackness surrounded me.

* * *

**A/N: Hey, so I know it's been almost another year since I've updated. If any of my readers are still even here, then I apologize sincerely. I mean it. I'm really, really, really sorry. But I fixed all the errors in my story, and my writing is stronger, and I decided on the actual plotline finally (yay!). So from now on I promise to try to update regularly.  
**

**xoxo,  
**

**Juliette  
**


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One: Being Theoretically Guilty

"_You live inside a dream,_

_Everything tastes so sweet,_

_As long as it agrees with how you feel._

_You're dancing in your sleep,_

_Till all the eyes that look at me,_

_Awaken your anxieties._

_I don't want to care,_

_And I don't want to hate,_

_And I don't want to see you fall too far away;_

_All because of fear._

'_Cause when you're afraid,_

_You lash out at me_

_When you say all the things you never meant to say._

_And try to break me._

_But in the end, what leaves you broken,_

_In the end, it makes you better."_

_-Better,_

_Plumb_

.-.-.-.

October 19th, 2011

.-.-.-.

"Isabella?" A female voice called behind the door. "Isabella? Open, please. I hate to just barge in there…." Nurse Coline, the self-appointed "guardian" of me, sighs and opens the door anyway.

"Hasn't stopped you before, now has it?"I muttered sarcastically to myself. Not to mention that I never answer to my first name. Ever. And she knows it.

"Oh, Isabella, look at this," Nurse Coline sighed and scanned the small room, taking in the broken picture frames, pillows strewn all over the floor, toppled dressers, and torn off curtains. I stared at her through heavy lidded eyes. She sighed again as she viewed my profile. I knew what she saw. Damp, wavy brown hair, pale complexion—sickly looking, I'm sure—lifeless brown eyes, thin, almost too thin body, bandaged arms and legs from my most recent "episode."

I lied indignantly on my twin sized bed with the white comforter, feet hanging off the side of it, softly banging my head against the wall in a vain attempt to block out everything around me. I wanted it all gone. All the white walls, floors, ceilings, beds, pillows, blankets.

Everything that was whiteI wanted gone. And that would be everything, since _everything_ was white.

"Isabella—" Nurse Coline stopped as she realized I was paying very little attention. "Isabella. I came to check on you… you alright?" she said softly. "Now, Isa—"

"Bella," I murmured scratchily. My throat killed.

"What?" Nurse Coline must've looked surprised. I would've known for sure if I had opened my eyes, but I mean, why wouldn't she? It was the first time I had spoken since my _episode_ about six or seven weeks ago. I lost count. I hate losing count.

"Bella," I said once again, slightly louder. Nurse Coline gave no response. I growled and sat up quickly, opening my eyes and glaring at Nurse Coline. "I go by _Bella_!" A little bit of an overreaction, sure, but she wasn't getting the point. I don't know how many times over the years I've had to tell her what name I go by. And being harsh was the most effective way to make her leave, a theory I've been testing throughout my time here.

"Isabella!" Nurse Coline scowled—finally, a reaction. Any emotion was better than no emotion. "Knock it off. You know, eventually you will have to come to terms with your disorders. The schizophrenia, the OCD time thing you have going on, not to mention your attitude—you'll have to learn to accept that part of who you are. It'll help you heal and then, _maybe_, just maybe, you can leave." She seemed like she was actually trying to help me…

"Whatever." I took my time lying back down, making a show of how bored I was and closed my eyes again.

"I'll send the orderlies to come clean up your room." She sighed. She was always sighing. She walked across my room to the doorway and paused, with her back turned to me. "I promise you, one day you'll understand Isabella." She left my room with one last sigh not once looking back.

.-.-.-.

October 30th, 2011

.-.-.-.

The numbers on the calendar blared brightly, screaming at me a fact I wished wasn't true. It's been seven years.

_Seven years._

This particular date was circled and crossed and scribbled in practically every color pen the asylum had to offer. It marked the day I would be here for yet another year. One more year I am dubbed critically insane. One more year without seeing the outside, without seeing my parents. One more year in _this_ place, and a hell of a lot more years left to go.

Normally, most people who knew me would assume that October 30th would not be the only date I'd have marked on the calendar. After all, my birthday was three days earlier. October 27th, 1993. Though, as far as I was concerned, all that day marked was the day of my lost life. Whatever life I would have had, whatever life I had had as an eleven-year-old girl.

I have an analogy for this. It's kind of like standing in front of a judge and having him declare you guilty. Off you go, guilty or not, to jail, never to have a real life again—or, at least, for some amount of years. My case was the same. Except, instead of jail it was an asylum. No criminals, just mental people. Cops were usually absent; there were really only nurses and doctors. And the judge, that was Dr. Kraylo, whom I cursed to this day. I will grant him one thing, though, he hadn't misdiagnosed me—I was, in every theoretical sense, guilty. What I was not was _insane_.

* * *

**A/N: I know this is an extremely short chapter, but they are all longer after this one. It's the shortest so far. Anyway, review! I write faster when I read reviews because they make me feel obligated to write...**

**xoxo,**

**Juliette  
**


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Run, Run, Run

"_It's easier to run  
Replacing this pain with something numb,  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone._

_Something has been taken, from deep inside of me,_  
_The secret I've kept locked away, no one can ever see._  
_Wounds so deep they never show, they never go away_  
_Like moving pictures in my head, for years and years they've played."_

_-Easier to Run,_

_Linkin Park_

.-.-.-.

November 5th, 2011

.-.-.-.

I did have a friend here. Given, its only one friend and I've gone months at a time without seeing her, but it counts for something. Well, not it, she. She counts for something. Her name is Rosalie, and I met her when I was thirteen, already two years into my depressing existence here. Though, she isn't always friendly; sometimes she is downright cruel. But she is both all that I've got and probably all that I will ever have, so I put up with her spiteful antics.

Rosalie was in here for being a sociopath; I'm pretty sure that's the technical term for being a heinous bitch. She was also in here for being unable to tell the difference between reality and fantasy. She'll go for months living in a different world (mentally) without knowing it. And then she'll switch back without realizing it, either. That's how Rosalie and I related. You know, with me seeing/hearing things that "aren't there," and her living in her own world which really _is not_ there. That was what our friendship was based on: fantasy. And if there's one thing I know, it's that fantasies never last.

Keeping that wonderfully uplifting thought in mind, I went searching for her throughout the cafeteria, and in failing to find her, I decided I would sit at our usual table and wait for her. After watching the clock for seventeen minutes I gave up and left the cafeteria without eating. I wasn't hungry anyway.

Wallowing in endless boredom, I decided I would wander around the asylum instead of going back to my room. Of course, my wandering couldn't go very far since nearly everything was restricted. So I wandered into the "game room" which had white walls and a dirty couch with a couple board games made for ages 3+. There was a vending machine in the corner that stopped working a long time ago and there was a spot on the ceiling where a fan had been—its been gone ever since the near decapitation of three inpatients in '86.

All of the sudden the futility of my situation overcame me. I was never going to escape. I would be trapped here, forever, marking off the years every year until it's no longer been merely seven or eight years, but _thirty_ seven and _thirty_ eight years. Groaning out loud I closed my eyes and spun in a circle. I opened my eyes and took off in whatever direction I was facing. Then I ran and ran and ran until I was out of breath and had to slow down. Gasping for air, I leaned against a light blue wall. Wait, light blue? Everything's white, though… I tried to control my breathing and realized I really need to work out or something, because I was _so_ out of shape. As soon as my breathing was under control and I felt my face cool down, I looked all around me and it dawned on me—after I read the sign, of course—

**Restricted Access Only**

And I should _not_ be here. I turned to the direction I was running in and noticed two steel doors that were really creepy looking. How could I have even gotten here? Surely there are locks and keypads that would have stopped me from getting this far into the Restricted Wing. I have explored every available inch of this madhouse for seven years, and I have never come across this area before.

I needed to leave. Like _right then._ I started to back up from the steel doors and crashed into a person behind me. "Shit!" I screamed and turned around, prepared to attempt to fight.

"You shouldn't be here, Bella." Rosalie looked at me, and for the first time I was scared of her. She was never serious, not this serious. Rude, sarcastic, and funny, sure, but not serious.

"But you're here…" I managed to squeak out. I wanted to take a step back, but one step back is one step closer to the steel doors. One step forward is closer to Rosalie, who is freaking me out. I was stuck.

"Bella, I mean it, you have to leave now." Rosalie warned. I wasn't used to this Rosalie. Her blond hair seemed burned, signed, and her clothes were disheveled. Her body was covered in burn scars and—needle marks? I wasn't sure. I was definitely out of my element.

"I'm trying! I was leaving until you showed up and stopped me!" I was freaking out. This was too weird. "Rosalie, what are _you_ doing here?" I turned and stared at the sign again. I think I heard of this place, but I had always thought it was just a rumor.

She barked out a laugh. "Oh, Bella. Don't you see?" She leaned in close and smirked. "I'm it."

I stared. "What? What do you mean, 'it?' No!" I shook my head. "Rosalie, I have no idea what you are talking about. C'mon, let's go." I went to grab her arm but she pulled away, twisting around me so I couldn't reach her. Nothing made sense. "Rosalie, you're not being funny." Everything started to spin and I think I was having a panic attack.

"Don't trust anyone. Bella, listen to me!" Her voice pulled me out of my reverie and the world came back in focus. "You need to escape, Bella. They're lying to you, Bella."

"Who's lying to me?" Rosalie ignored me. "Rosalie! Who's lying to me!"

Rosalie put her lips next to my ear, and I cringed from having her so close. Luckily she didn't touch me. "You're next, Heaven," she breathed out.

I heard a _bang_ on the steel doors and whipped my head around to see what it was. Seeing nothing, I turned around, preparing to convince Rosalie to leave and then run.

She was gone.

So I ran.

Farther and farther away, until the light blue walls faded into white, twisting and turning through hallways and corridors I had never seen before. _I really have to pay attention next time I run through random hallways. _Finally I was back to my section of the institution, Ward Six. I practically limped to my room and paused in the entryway, gasping heavily for oxygen. I weakly shut the door behind me and walked to my bed, collapsing the second my body landed on the stupid white comforter. I fell asleep instantly, leaving no time to process anything that had just happened.

* * *

**A/N: So remember when I said my chapters would be longer after the first one? I thought they were. But when I look at them on here they're actually very, very short. Oh, well. I'll just have to post more chapters to make up for it. Let me know what you think!**

**xoxo,**

**Juliette  
**


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three: Be Careful

"_Everybody's waiting for you to breakdown  
Everybody's watching to see the fallout  
Even when you're sleeping, sleeping  
Keep your ey-eyes open  
Keep your ey-eyes open  
Keep your ey-eyes open_

_So here you are, two steps ahead and staying on guard_  
_Every lesson forms a new scar_  
_They never thought you'd make it this far_  
_But turn around, oh they've surrounded you_  
_It's a showdown, and nobody comes to save you now_  
_But you've got something they don't_  
_Yeah you've got something they don't_  
_You've just gotta keep your eyes open."_

_-Eyes Open,_

_Taylor Swift_

.-.-.-.

November 6th, 2011

.-.-.-.

Someone was knocking at my door. I muttered incoherently at the door, before realizing that I wasn't making any sense. I sat up. "Hang on a second!" I groaned out.

Why did it feel like I just completed a marathon without consuming water for the past twenty-four hours? I scratched my head, trying to collect my thoughts. _That was the weirdest dream last night… _I shook my head. _It _was _a dream, right? _I rolled my eyes at how stupid I was being. _Of course it was a dream_, I chided myself. I got up and walked to the door and opened it. There was a girl standing outside my door. _My_ door. No one was ever outside _my_ door—willingly at least.

The girl had black hair that was cut chin length with random pink streaks throughout it; pretty, gray eyes with thick, dark, curled eyelashes framing them; and skin so porcelain she could have been a china doll. She wore a navy, cashmere sweater set with a matching navy knee length pencil skirt, and red patent flats. The girl and I were nearly the same height, but she was a few inches shorter. She looked anemic and fragile, and I wondered where she could have possibly lived to become so _pale._ I mean, seriously, I thought _I _was pale.

I felt very plain and unofficial standing next to her with my un-brushed hair, plain white tee and pink skinny jeans. I hadn't put makeup on either, so I knew there were dark circles under my eyes. Not to mention I had on two mismatched socks, one with sleeping sheep on it and clouds, the other one with bloody smiley faces. _Awesome right?_

"Very awesome." The girl said. "I am Alice Masen; your new roommate." I stared again. _How did she know what I was thinking…?_

"You may let me in now," Alice smiled, but it seemed cold, forced—menacing, even. _Since when have I become so paranoid? It's just a smile._

"Oh, right. Come in. I'm sorry. Anyway, make yourself at… home… I s'pose," I watched her warily as she walked inside. Don't nurses escort new inpatients?

Alice stepped in and set her stuff on the only bed left which was the one farthest away from the door, but in sight of the mirror.

_Fae's face flashed through my mind. "Don't trust anyone." Her voice echoed through my head. _Dream or no dream, I wasn't taking any chances.

"Welllll," I drew out the word, prompting Alice to speak.

"Welllll," Alice mimicked me. It was probably more annoying than it should have been, but I didn't say anything.

"You have an accent." I was wondering why she sounded weird.

Alice looked at me and nodded slowly, as if I was wasting her time. "A British one at that,"

"What are you doing all the way in Massachusetts, then?" Something didn't seem right. I mean, I _am_ in an asylum and everything, but what if this is who Fae was talking about? If Fae actually talked to me, of course, and it wasn't just a dream—but I desperately hoped it was.

"My mom missed the states. She is from here, but my dad is from England." She shrugged. "They compromised. We lived in England for seventeen years, and now we have moved back. Well, they have. My brother and I ended up here, as you can see."

"Oh." They're siblings and they're _both _in here? Doesn't that mean they're pretty messed up? "Both of you are in the asylum?"

"Not exactly. He is more of a… caregiver, I suppose you could say, for me. Where are you from?"

"Boston." I frowned when I realized that I've never left the state. How dreadfully boring.

"Why were you here alone?" she picked at her nails, scraping the red polish off them. I cringed. I despised that.

"Because the nurses didn't want me to have a roommate? I don't know." I shrugged. Actually, now that I think about it, it's weird that _she's_ here. "Why are you here? And wouldn't the nurses have escorted you to my room or something?"

"Demonophobia." I stared. "It is what it sounds like. Fear of demons, spirits, evil..." Alice elaborated, seemingly irritated with my ignorance. "And they did not feel the need to, seeing as I know where everything is. And you?"

"Wait, how is that so bad that you had to be entered into an asylum?" I asked, changing the subject away from me. "And how come you talk like that, without contractions? It's really weird. And why are you dressed as if you're a politician's daughter?" And how would she know where everything is? _Why am I always confused?_

She glared at me. "They are everywhere. Most of the population lives in blissful ignorance, completely unawares, but not me. I see them. They do not like that. They tried to get rid of me, but I am too clever for them."

And _I _was crazy?

She continued on, ignoring the are-you-serious look I was giving her. "Contractions? I cannot stand them. They are useless and I refuse to use them." She said it like contractions were the most distasteful thing in the world. Whatever. "And you?" She repeated.

I hesitated. I had no idea who the "they" she referred to was, and she hadn't answered the clothes thing. But then again, I probably just offended her. "Visual and auditory schizophrenia." I played with my fingers.

Alice whistled low, which is stupid, because, _hello_, she just went on about demons trying to kill her! And whistling hurts my ears. "Well, this will be interesting," Alice paused uncertainly, crossing one pale leg over the other. "How do you know _I_ amnot a figment of your imagination?"

Silence answered Alice's question.

Alice smiled, and I swear, right then she looked like one of the demons she was talking about earlier. "Touch me. Because you know, if you only have auditory and visual schizophrenia, then you will not be able to touch me if I am not real." Alice stood up and smiled that wicked smile again. "Of course, I am real, but still," She crossed the room and put her hand out.

"_No_!" I flailed myself away from the offending appendage and fell to the floor. "Don't touch me!" I shrieked.

Alice gasped and pulled her hand back as if something had burned it. "Bella, are you alright? Do you have a fear of being touched or something?" She batted her dark eyelashes innocently. "I thought you only had schizophrenia!" _Only _had schizophrenia. As if it weren't that big of a deal.

"No… I—I," I looked down, trying to regulate my breathing. "Just don't touch me," I muttered. "Whatever you do, don't touch me."

I had no intention of explaining to her my unreasonable fear of finding out whether one's fictional or not. It terrified me, which will make it nearly impossible to live in the outside world, but it wasn't like I was leaving anytime soon. It's tiresome having to constantly avoid contact with every _single_ person you meet. Well, except for the ones you hate, who you constantly poke to see if they'll disappear.

Not that I knew from experience.

Alice crouched down next to me, but not close enough to be touching. Every trace of the psychotic Alice disappeared, replaced with a calm, careful, and slightly reproachful Alice. "All right. Get up now, Bella."

I stayed where I was, more embarrassed than anything, but she sat down across from me anyway. Is this how roommates always acted? If so, I'd rather be alone again. Obviously I don't know how to act properly around other people.

"Isabella?" Nurse Coline knocked on the door, interrupting my awkward stare down with the floor. Out of the corner of my eye I swear I saw Alice's eyes darken until they were almost black. Then just as quickly as it happened, it was over. _I am seriously too paranoid for my own good. No wonder they keep me here. _Alice rolled her eyes and made a face at the closed door.

"What?" I asked, making sure to sound irritated. Otherwise she'd come in, and I didn't feel like dealing with her and her questions.

She sighed. "Lights out." She left and walked down the hallway, her sneakers squeaking against the tile.

"Goodnight Nurse Coline…" I whispered, instantly feeling guilty for being so rude.

.-.-.-.

November 7th, 2011

.-.-.-.

_I glared at the orderly who put my meal in front of me. "I'm not an invalid, y'know, I am able to walk to the cafeteria to get my food." I rolled over on my bed so that my back was facing him. _

"_Sorry miss, boss's orders." His gruff voice resounded throughout my small room. "And technically you _are_ an invalid, seeing as you're here in a mental institution." His cruel laugh seemed to never end, and my back stiffened. "Little Bella is insane, little Bella is insane, she will never escape, never escape…" He taunted over and over._

_I rolled back over and sat up, about to tell him off and call for Nurse Coline when all the sudden I noticed he wasn't an orderly, wasn't staff at all. The lights in the room flickered on and off, on and off, seemingly to the tune of his taunt. I stared terrified as his eyes changed from blue to red, his white scrubs to a black cloak, and his nails to talons. "What do you want with me?" I whispered. I swear I even saw some raven feathers. Raven… Raven… Why is that familiar?_

"_You never were the observant one, were you? You should've listened to that little friend of yours. I am everywhere; they are everywhere." He laughed maniacally, and continued prattling on about things I didn't understand. "You're running out of time, my precious. You need to escape soon. If you don't, you'll be trapped here forever!" This seemed to set him off, making laugh so hard that blood seeped out of his mouth._

"_What do you mean, running out of time? What are you talking about?" I screamed at him, but he paid no heed to my questions. His talons reached out to grab my throat and he chuckled, recovering from the laughing fit he had a minute ago. _

_He sighed, disappointed. "Be very, very careful, my dear. Stay alert, watch your surroundings. I wouldn't want something _unfortunate_ to happen to you." His voice oozed fake sympathy. Then his talons pierced my throat and he watched the blood pour from the new wound. My eyes slowly shut as I took my last breath, the echoes of his song still in my mind._

I screamed and sat up, continuing screaming until a voice yelled at me. "Bella! What is wrong? What is happening? Shh, you will alert the guard!" Alice sputtered out, her gray eyes wide, visibly put off by my terror.

"He's back, he's back, he's back," I rocked back and forth. What was I to do? He was coming to get me. And this time I wouldn't live.

"Shhh, shh, Bella, shh. It is alright. No one is here. No one is coming to get you. It is all okay," she whispered from a distance, trying to be soothing. But nothing could soothe me, not now at least.

"You don't understand," I hiccuped, trying to calm myself down.

"No, I never have." Her eyes glinted with an unreadable emotion. "You are safe for now. Rest, Bella." Her pale face in the darkness was the last thing I saw before I fell into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Meeting Mister British Guy

"_They say I'm cold, cold, cold, oh baby why so cold?  
I'm super sweet sealed with a kiss  
Don't get offended if there's something you missed_

_I only show you what I want you to see_  
_I got my t-t-t-t-tongue in my cheek_  
_If you see them laughing_  
_Don't follow in_  
_'Cause they're the butt of my joke_

_I'll always be just who you want me to be_  
_And keep my t-t-t-t-tongue in my cheek_  
_A hopeless romantic_  
_You'll never see_  
_'Cause you're not in on the joke."_

_-You're Not In On the Joke,_

_Cobra Starship_

.-.-.-.

November 9th, 2011

.-.-.-.

"Um, _excuse_ me?" I heard a male voice exclaim in confusion as I turned down a corridor.

"How dare you!" A girl screeched in apparent outrage. "I can't _believe_ it!" She huffed and went into her room, slamming the door behind her. It took me a second to place where I had seen her before.

_Oh._

"Excuse me, um, sir?" I called awkwardly—and too formally, I know—to the boy standing in front of the door.

He turned to me, his face lighting up in what looked like recognition. Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappeared and was replaced by a small, tight smile that was more like a grimace than anything. "What?" His tone was clipped, and he had one hand on his hip and the other was pulling through his dark hair.

"Uhh… what did you call her?" I asked, purposefully staying several feet away, while he rolled his eyes. _Well, isn't he friendly?_

"Her _name_." He said in the most 'duh' tone of voice he could muster, I'm sure.

I was beginning to get irritated, but I tried to play cool. "Quit being a smartass, I'm trying to help you. Would you like to find out why she slammed the door in your face or not?" I shrugged. "If not, then I'll be on my way." When he didn't respond right away, I started continuing down the hall.

He crossed his arms. "Fine." I stopped and looked at him, waiting. "Her name is Amie. So?"

"She goes by Alice. She freaks out whenever someone doesn't call her that. She takes her real name as an insult. It's part of her disorder. She thinks she's Alice from Wonderland. Didn't you think the thin blue dress and white apron were a little weird?"

"Who am I to judge what she wears? It could be a uniform here, I don't know. I'm new."

"She carried a wicker basket on her arm with a stuffed white rabbit in it with a pocket watch. She was transferred to _Wonderland _Clinic?" I rolled my eyes, and then looked at him closely. I've never seen him before. "So you're new?"

"Yes. I'm here from England." Oh. _This_ was Alice's sibling. I took in his whole frame, from his mussed up hair, to his beautiful gray eyes, to his seemingly perfect abs that clung to his tee shirt, to his distressed jeans and Italian shoes. Wow.

"So _you're_ the infamous Mr. Masen." Though, he wasn't really infamous. Alice barely mentioned she had a sibling.

"I'm sorry, _who_ are you again?" He looked at me suspiciously, but for some reason it seemed as if he was putting on an act.

"Oh. Right. I'm Bella, Alice's roommate. Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure." He said it with absolutely no emotion as he looked at me.

"Wow. Your sister definitely got all the nice genes, even with her weird hating contractions thing." I scowled. Who was he to think he was so much better? He was in this place too.

"Is that so?" He turned and started walking down the hallway.

"Yes! And you can't walk that way," I caught up to him quickly. Normally I would be nervous in this kind of situation—I don't talk to other people much, especially boys—but he was too… I don't know, cold? It didn't really matter. The end result was he ticked me off more than he attracted me. _Keep telling yourself that maybe you'll believe it._

"Why not? Annoying American girls this way only?" He chuckled quietly, clearly amused with his stupid little joke. Which honestly wasn't even that funny.

"_No._" I rolled my eyes. I've been doing that a lot since I met him. It made me that much more annoyed at him."Because this is a particularly _long_ hallway and this is the way _I_ have to go, and I do not want to walk it with you!"

I stopped, crossed my arms, looked at him, and waited to see what he had to say. "Well, I have to go this way too, so deal." All the sudden I felt like I was transported back to Kindergarten. I should've just turned around… _Too late now._

"Mature." I flipped my—thankfully clean and brushed—hair at him and walked faster.

"So was you telling me I can't walk in the same hallway as you, 'because this is a particularly _looooooong_ hallway.'" He mocked in a surprisingly high falsetto.

"Whatever." I paused. "And I do _not_ sound like that!"

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a superiority complex?" He had a hard time keeping a straight face whiling saying this, as if even he knew it didn't make any sense.

"Have you _met_ yourself Mister-I'm-so-hot-because-I'm-British-I'm-just-too-amazing-for-normal-people?" I huffed. _Please don't notice that I just called you hot…_

"So you think I'm hot?" He asked laughing. _Of course you noticed._

"Seriously? That's beside the point." I glared at him. "You're insufferable and I just met you!"

Thankfully we neared the end of the seemingly endless hallway, which meant you either had to go right or left. I had to go right. _Please go left please go left please go left please go left please go left plea—_

He smiled. "Well, that sounds like a personal problem to me." I turned to gape at him, and ended up walking right into a wall. _Shit._

My face flushed completely. "You know the hallway ends here, right?" He smirked one last time before turning to the left. _Thank you, God. _

"I know that!" I called after his retreating form, nursing a new headache.

He raised his hand above him in some sort of a wave, without looking back, and said, "Maybe I'll have the pleasure to walk down another never-ending corridor with you. Until then, Miss Belle."

"It's Bell_a_," I muttered, more to myself than to him.

He was just about to turn down another hallway before he stopped and looked back quickly with a guilty grin on his face, as if he had lost some bet with himself to not look back. Then he pushed open the doors and disappeared from my line of sight.

"Wait!" I yelled, but he was already gone, the doors already swinging back into place. "I never caught _your_ name…" I said quietly, my voice echoing softly of the empty walls. _Oh well._ I continued on my way to my room, my head filled to the brim with things I needed to over-analyze; Rosalie, the light-blue corridor, my new roommate, the dream, and now Mister British Guy. I sighed. It was going to be a long, long night.


End file.
